Surrounded by the thirst driven sweaty messes blocking the door
Searching for fortune and famethe one thing we all adore
Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus
At stores they feed into me gettin all sweaty and nervous
Must be something you want me to see
Im hot, and ready u better be sweaty,
Bunch of so sayers, when they go to sleep tonight, well i just hope they said their prayers
Thinkin they true players, but they soft as fuck after the first couple of layers
In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars
I grew up in new orleans, ball players and rhyme stars,
I get gritty on wax like record players- i'm the slayer of that kind
I see yesterday i called you names, and played games on yo' mind
George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve
I'm entertainin' 'til the players change to complainers
I’m a beast when my shit hits the streets these niggas cease
My palms sweaty, the mic's slippin thru cemeteries
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